


when all the lights out (hey), where you going?

by volchitsae



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, IKEA, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volchitsae/pseuds/volchitsae
Summary: "we somehow got stuck overnight in an ikea and I just want to go to sleep in one of the display beds but you’re slowly convincing me that it’d be fun to see how much shit we can get into before the morning staff come to open up the store" AU-Don’t ask why Sakusa’s here at IKEA right before closing. He knows he’s essentially committing a crime and will repent by going shopping at considerate human hours, but please understand that his second desktop monitor was just shipped and now he needs to revamp his entire desk situation in order to fit it and the dual monitor stand along with the desktop itself, the accessories, and actual desk space.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 41
Kudos: 631





	when all the lights out (hey), where you going?

Don’t ask why Sakusa’s here at IKEA right before closing. He knows he’s essentially committing a crime and will repent by going shopping at considerate human hours, but please understand that his second desktop monitor was just shipped and now he needs to revamp his entire desk situation in order to fit it and the dual monitor stand along with the desktop itself, the accessories, and actual desk space.

Could he have waited until tomorrow? Yes. But he opened his monitor and monitor stand to set them up in the haze of new packages arriving and there wasn’t enough space on his one table, so now he’s driven through the rain to IKEA.

Okay. Right. Desk. From his two minutes of Googling, it seems that the most cost effective and easy set up for his ideal L-shaped desk involves two LINNMON tabletops with the ADILS legs underneath. He’s been eyeing the ALEX 5-drawer unit as well to work as a table legs on one end as well.

Sakusa’s standing in front of the tabletops with a trolley in the self-serve area, little pencil in hand with the measurements marked out on the IKEA shopping list. He hasn’t seen anyone else since he came in other than a few employees walking around and at the cashiers and pushes himself to hurry.

“200 by 60-centimeter tabletop, three legs, an ALEX, then the kit for the tabletop with the legs, 150 by 75 centimeters,” he mutters to himself, before sticking the paper in his back pocket and tucking the pencil into his ponytail at the hair tie. He’s loaded the tabletops and the drawer set and is picking through the bin of ADILS legs that match the black tabletop when suddenly all the lights turn off and he’s plunged into near darkness. The emergency lamps turn on.

Sakusa freezes, clutching the table legs to his chest. Was there a power outage? The rain was merely a drizzle when he came in. He stands for a heartbeat or two waiting for an announcement, but when nothing is said over the intercom, he piles the legs onto his trolley and wheels it towards the cashiers.

When he’s in eyeline of the registers, an alarm starts blaring and he jumps at the loud sound and then jumps again because someone else has shrieked loudly from somewhere else in the self-service warehouse. There are no employees at the registers.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, before raising his voice. “Uh, hello? Do you know what’s going on?”

“What? I can’t hear ya over these _fuckin_ ’ alarms,” the stranger says, emerging from the maze of ceiling high industrial shelves. He’s a few inches shorter than Sakusa, with blond hair over a dark undercut, pushing a trolley with what Sakusa considers the Leaning Tower of unassembled furniture.

The alarms suddenly cut out and he stops walking towards Sakusa. The both of them glance around. Sakusa wonders if they’re going to be arrested, when the phone at one register starts to ring.

Sakusa glances at it and then up at the stranger. “Pick it up.”

The man looks at him incredulously. “No, _you_ pick it up.”

“What? It’s practically next to you. You have less registers to pass than me to reach it.”

“Still don’t wanna pick it up.”

“Oh my god,” Sakusa says, and marches over to the register to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” a voice drawls over the line. “Didn’t realize there were still customers still in the store. Our bad.”

“Are you the security guard? Can you let us out?” The stranger with him shuffles over and Sakusa lowers the corded phone from his ear into the space between them so they can both hear.

The man over the line sniffs. “Just an employee. I told the local police that you’re in here and it’s not a break in, so don’t worry about getting arrested. I can disable the alarm if you guys wanna leave, but I think it’s safer that you stay put with the weather warning right now.”

As if on cue, lightning flashes through the windows up on the food court and a rumble of thunder makes the lights sway a little.

The stranger narrows his eyes at the window like he’s thinking he can take the weather one-on-one. “How bad is it?” he asks.

The employee says, “Bad enough to prevent me from driving back to the store to get you guys. The city’s been advised to stay inside, so this counts you, too.”

“And we can leave through the emergency exits anyway?” Sakusa asks.

“Yep. But you’re on your own outside. The rain’s torrential, and the roads are shitty by now.”

“So we’re stuck,” the stranger says.

“Better in an IKEA than in your car on the road.”

Sakusa sighs. He’s got a point. “Are we allowed to sleep in the display beds?”

“Yeah, I give you permission if you fill in the customer service survey tomorrow morning when the store opens and say that Hanamaki and Matsukawa gave you shelter.”

Sakusa snorts. “You were the ones who locked us in here, not realizing that there were still customers in the store.”

“Details, details. Is it a deal? Or do you want me to disable the door alarms for you to brave the storm outside?”

“Are all IKEA employees this dramatic?”

“Only us two. But we’re not the ones stuck in IKEA.”

“Fair enough,” Sakusa says. “I’ll sleep in the display bed. What about you?” He looks at the stranger, who blinks.

“Oh, I’m definitely stayin’. It’s not every day I get the chance to get trapped in IKEA.” Sakusa feels a sense of foreboding.

“Damn straight,” says Hanamaki. “Oi, Mattsun, they’re stayin’,” he says, fainter.

Sakusa feels like he’s being pranked. “Are you just going to watch us through the security cameras?”

“We do wanna sleep. We’ve just met, and I like you both already from the very little we’ve said to each other, but don’t actually trash the place, okay? I don’t want a lawsuit on our hands.”

“I wouldn’t want to clean up the mess,” Sakusa says. “Thanks for not calling the police on us.”

“No problem. Sweet dreams, kids,” Hanamaki replies, and they hang up.

“I’m Miya Atsumu,” the stranger says, holding his hand out. “Figure we should get to know each other if we’re spendin’ a night at IKEA together.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” They shake hands and Sakusa pulls out his phone. It’s 9:15pm, a bit earlier than when Sakusa usually sleeps, but he can easily kill another hour and a half just scrolling around on his phone. He leaves his trolley and starts to walk towards the showrooms.

“Where ya off to, Omi-kun?” Atsumu falls into step with him.

Sakusa raises an eyebrow at the sudden nickname. “To sleep.”

Atsumu gasps a little, eyes wide, stopping abruptly. “You don’t wanna fool around? We’re in 350,000 square footage of space and y'wanna _sleep_?”

“Hanamaki just said not to destroy this place.”

Atsumu skips ahead on the staircase and spreads his arms out, forcing Sakusa to stop and look at him questioningly.

“Småland,” Atsumu says, without further elaboration. They glance over at the cheery entrance to the playground lit by the emergency lights.

“We’re both over six feet tall. And two decades older than the intended age group.”

“ _Ball pit_ , Omi-Omi.” They have a staring standoff. Atsumu’s doing some weird mutation of jazz hands and Sakusa is getting more tired with every passing second he looks at Atsumu.

“I’ve never been in a ball pit,” he says, not quite a refusal and not quite assent, but Atsumu whoops and takes the stairs down two at a time only to stop at the entrance and extend one arm with a flourish.

“After you.” Sakusa rolls his eyes and ducks into Småland, feeling immediately too lanky and tall once he’s inside. It’s designed like a forest and everything is made out of plastic, with fake birch trees that serve as the supporting pillars of the area along with birch stump stools and tables.

“Shoes off,” Sakusa says, pointing at the sign. Atsumu grumbles and Sakusa toes off his sneakers before stepping onto the hardwood floor. Sakusa wanders over to the stone fence and measures himself against the pine tree; he’s easily as tall as it. He makes his way over to the miniature restaurant area and picks up the utensils to throw into their respective tubs.

“I can’t believe you’re _cleaning_ , Omi-kun.” Sakusa looks around for Atsumu but doesn’t see him.

“I hope you step on a Lego piece.”

“Do they even have Lego in here? Or is it an IKEA version? Le _ga_ ,” Atsumu says, and then bursts into laughter.

Sakusa finds him buried in the ball pit. Only his face is visible and Atsumu’s settled in like he’s ready to nap there. “Lego is a brand. It’s the same word in every language.”

“Join me in the pit, smartass.” Atsumu raises his fists and colourful plastic balls scatter as he snickers. Sakusa steps in gingerly, like he’s testing the temperature of the pool, and crouches near Atsumu’s head. Atsumu grins up at him from upside down. He gingerly tosses a ball that bounces against Sakusa’s forehead.

“Havin’ fun yet?”

“Not quite,” Sakusa says, before scooping up a bunch of balls and dumping them onto Atsumu’s face, barely holding back a laugh.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ _on_ , Omi-kun,” Atsumu hisses, and whips a ball at Sakusa that nails him in the stomach. The balls have empty air in them, and it honestly hurts their arms more to try to throw them with substantial force to hurt each other.

“What were you here in IKEA for?” Sakusa says, once they’re tired from the fight and slumped in the ball pit like dejected teenagers. Sakusa thinks he could probably nap here, but he really does want to sleep in a display bed.

“My brother’s boyfriend moved into the apartment we shared, and I moved out. Suna liked most of the furniture that ‘Samu and I bought from IKEA over the years that they decided to keep it, save my bedframe n’ stuff from my room. Assholes,” Atsumu sighs. “Plus side is I get to buy new shit for the apartment I’m in now. And you, Omi-Omi?”

“I needed a new desk.”

Atsumu chuckles and tosses a ball. “What happened to your current one?”

“Too small.” Sakusa throws it back.

“How big d’you need your desk to be, exactly?”

“I’m going for an L-shaped one.”

Atsumu hums. “Lots of space, then. What do ya do?”

“Just university. Sciences.”

“Med?”

“Don’t have the passion for it. Research. You?”

“Man, I’d need a lot of passion to keep myself in a lab. Law school and volleyball.”

“Taking the bar soon?”

“Too soon.” Sakusa snorts, and then again because Atsumu’s stomach growls. He grins up at Sakusa.

“Meatballs?”

“We have to leave cash at the register.”

“Damn.”

* * *

They leave Småland and pick up a bag of frozen meatballs and mashed potatoes, a jar of lingonberry jam, and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. They fill their glass cups with lingonberry soda after figuring out how to heat up the frozen food over the stoves in the light of their cellphones.

“Holy shit, I just realized we could have _way_ more meatballs than they usually give even when you ask for extra,” Atsumu says, sticking three of the toothpick flags into his pile of meatballs. “Best night in IKEA ever.”

Sakusa has a normal number of meatballs on his plate. He feels a lot more awake now that there’s food to eat; Atsumu’s run off and grabbed some battery powered LED candles off the display shelves and they’re eating in fake candlelight.

“Mood lighting is everything,” Atsumu says, turning off his cellphone flashlight. The yellow glow bounces off his tan skin and tints his hair gold.

Sakusa rolls his meatball in lingonberry and gravy. “It definitely helps it feel more like a somewhat normal date.”

“Oh, a date, is it? So _forward_ of you, Omi-kun.” Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows and his fork at Sakusa, who promptly eats another bite to refrain from saying anything while he feels a blush creep up the back of his neck. He’s too tired; that’s why he let the date comment slip.

“After this, I wanna do _real_ date shit. _Commitment_ kinda stuff.”

“It’s 11pm.”

“Aw, you need to go to bedtime?” Sakusa rolls his eyes and gestures for him to continue. With that one snarky challenge, Sakusa’s accepted his fate with Atsumu, immediately game for whatever else he’s got planned.

“We’re moving pretty quickly, aren’t we? Commitment already?”

“ _You_ said the word date first.” Sakusa shrugs. “’Kay, well, I wanna go and re-decorate the showrooms. I’ll determine if we’re a good fit for each other if we can redesign a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom together without murderin’ each other.”

“Do you do this with all potential dates?”

“Wow, _potential_ dates, I’m hurt, Omi-Omi. I’m easily marriage material, you need to up your glasses prescription.”

“Maybe you need to get your eyes checked once I see how you decorate.”

“How d’you already think I’ve got bad taste?”

Sakusa points at Atsumu’s feet. “Crocs.” 

“Fuck you, they’re comfortable, and I’m wearing socks with them, so I’m not nearly as bad as someone who wears 'em without. So that’s a yes to decoratin'?” Sakusa shrugs again. He’s always wanted to fiddle with the displays.

“Awesome,” Atsumu smiles, and puts his utensils down. “’M gonna eat this cake slice in one bite and then we can go. Watch.”

“Please don’t. I don’t want to give you the Heimlich.”

“I’m just tryin’ to see what those arms feel like, Omi-kun.” Sakusa clangs his fork against the plate with a huff, shaking his head at Atsumu as he tries not to laugh at the ridiculous picture of Atsumu stuffing a cake slice down his throat just to flirt in the strangest way possible.

They finish their cake and Atsumu’s got a pleased grin on his face, chin in one hand. “Ready to go?”

Sakusa gathers his dinnerware. “We need to wash these first.” Atsumu makes a noise of protest but follows when Sakusa wordlessly walks to the kitchen sinks.

At Sakusa’s insistence, they take a shopping cart and strip some of the displays bare of decorations and accents before going back to the self-service warehouse to put things back and replace them with other fake plants, rugs, curtains, and other accessories. Atsumu provides a hilarious commentary that would give HGTV hosts a run for their money.

“Oh, dear, he’s goin' for the _patterned_ curtains,” he says in a lofty accent to no one in particular, as Sakusa hangs a delicate curtain with sunflowers embroidered on it across a bedroom window. “The duvet is already patterned! The flowers don’t match!”

“The duvet has the honeybees _you_ picked,” Sakusa says. “It’s on theme.” Atsumu tuts and arranges fake succulents on the desk.

“Three points out of five. One deducted for snark and one deducted ‘cause you think the birds and the bees is a good bedroom theme.”

“If it’s the master bedroom,” Sakusa scoffs, “That’s exactly the theme you’d want.”

“An extra point five for the flirting. Take me in these bumblebee sheets.”

“Didn’t know sunflowers would make it so easy.”

“Flowers are the genital parts of plants after all, Omi-kun.”

“Let’s touch stamens,” Sakusa deadpans, dissolving into laughter halfway through the word stamens. Atsumu lifts the honeybee duvet with an over the top sultry expression.

They hide an alarming amount of sparkling juice and jams in the cupboards when they’re at the kitchen stage of redecorating. Atsumu’s stacking plates from one dinner table setup to distribute to all the other empty display tables.

“Who even fuckin’ _needs_ five plates in increasing size for dinner? You have your plate for dinner food and a plate for dessert. A bowl for soup. Three course meal, done.”

“Is that how you also function at buffets?” Sakusa’s building an elaborate dinner table spread with the fake food he’s taken from the other kitchens.

“I grab five different plates all at once. You work as a server for long enough and anythin’ is possible.”

“Your poor buffet ice cream.”

“I eat that first. You look at it the wrong way and it’s already meltin’.” Sakusa gives Atsumu an incredulous look which makes Atsumu laugh and nearly drop and smash his stack of ceramic plates. 

“Where’s that server instinct now, huh,” Sakusa says, wry.

“In action; I didn’t break any, did I?”

Sakusa finishes with placing the fake food on the table. If it was real, he’d worry the table would bend with the weight. “You know what would really make these look their best,” he says, arms crossed as he scrutinizes their masterpieces.

“Hmm?” Atsumu ambles over, poking at the rubber rotisserie chicken. “Lay it on me, Omi-kun.”

“BLÅHAJ.” Atsumu’s eyes widen with a look of awe and pride on his face.

“ _Now_ you’re talkin’.”

Atsumu piles literally all of the sharks from their bin into their shopping cart, taking a moment to tip himself over into the pile of soft plush with a deep, satisfied sigh. Sakusa tugs one out from under him to push into the kid’s seat of the cart.

They make it their mission to put a BLÅHAJ in every single place they can. A few of them are seated in the chairs of Sakusa’s dinner table, a darling shark couple tucked into the honeybee blankets, one in each sink of the bathroom displays. They put some into the cribs of the nursery displays and a few at the desk displays. Sakusa tugs the books off the shelves to open in front of the sharks as if they’re studying.

When they’re down to the final BLÅHAJ, the one seated in the cart as if it’s a child, Atsumu pets it with a sad noise.

“This one’s been on such a journey with us, Omi-kun,” he whines, patting its face tenderly. “We’ve been pushin’ it around in the cart for at least ten minutes and it feels like we’re grocery shoppin’ or somethin’ with our firstborn.”

Sakusa yawns and checks his phone. It’s now a little past 2am.

“Take the shark with you to sleep with. I’m going to bed.” Atsumu yanks the shark out and tucks it under one arm on their way to the display beds.

Atsumu hops onto one of the beds and rolls on it. “How’re you judgin’ the comfiest one, Omi-Omi?”

“I’m not. This one looks nice, so it’s fine.” Sakusa lifts the white duvet and takes off his sneakers, glad he decided on sweatpants on his last-minute excursion to IKEA. He hears Atsumu going around and jumping onto each bed around him to test them out.

“Can you please pick one and sleep,” he grouches, dropping his phone onto the bed.

“S’not like you’re asleep yet, Omi-kun. I wanna pick the right one for scary stories.”

Sakusa sighs, eyelids heavy. “You’re loud. Hurry up.”

“Wanna watch a scary video with me?” Atsumu’s circled back to a bed right next to Sakusa’s.

Sakusa groans and sits up. “Will that make you sleep?” At least it isn’t a movie.

“Maybe the opposite. No promises.”

“Come here, then.”

“What? No, I spent all this time and picked this one, you come here.”

“They’re all the same!”

“Omi-kun, you definitely know you’re wrong. They have to display all the different ones so people can test 'em. This one’s memory foam, and it has Jeremy, and most importantly, me.”

“Jeremy?”

“Our _son_ , ya imbecile!” Sakusa scoffs and flops onto Atsumu’s chosen bed.

“Scary video. Sleep.” Sakusa jabs Jeremy the shark in the face with a stern pointed finger.

“’Kay. This one’s right on theme.” Atsumu loads up a YouTube video of someone playing SCP-3008, one that he’s watched before. It’s a video game where the player is in a paranormal infinite IKEA and has to fight off enemies dressed in IKEA employee uniforms.

“SCP? You’re a nerd.”

“Okay, but _you_ also recognized what an SCP is, fellow loser. Well met.” Atsumu jumps when the YouTuber playing is jumpscared, clutching Jeremy close to his chest.

When the video is over, Sakusa’s half asleep from being too familiar with the video and not being jumpscared, but Atsumu’s glancing around them in their lone iceberg of a bed with a sea of furniture around them.

“Didja see that shadow over by the kitchen, Omi-kun?”

“No one’s here except us. I’ll smother you with Jeremy, shhh,” Sakusa mumbles. The rain is lulling him to sleep.

“For a second I thought you were flirtin’ with me, but then came the homicide threat.”

“If you’re flirting with me, you better get used to it.”

Atsumu shifts and wiggles around, so restless that Sakusa still can’t fall asleep. He’s too lazy to get up and move to his original bed now that he’s warm and comfortable, so he slings one arm around Atsumu’s waist and hauls Atsumu in, his front curving against Atsumu’s spine.

Atsumu freezes. “Omi-kun?”

“Y’were moving too much. Annoying. Sleep.” Sakusa shifts his head so his nose isn’t tickled by Atsumu’s hair.

“Right. Sure.” Sakusa would gloat at finally getting the last word with Atsumu, but he smells like fresh laundry and it’s somewhere around 3:40am, so he falls asleep instead.

* * *

“Oi, Sleeping Beauties,” a voice says, making Sakusa snap awake. Hanamaki and Matsukawa are in their bright yellow polo shirts, standing at the foot of the bed.

The morning light filters in aggressively with IKEA’s floor to ceiling windows. Sakusa has turned away from Atsumu at some point in his sleep but happens to be holding Jeremy instead. He sits up and picks up his phone that’s on the carpet.

“Sleep well?” Hanamaki asks.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting us stay.”

“No prob. I saw your trolleys near the cashiers, if you wanted to check out.”

“Sure. Atsumu, c’mon.”

Atsumu is blinking blearily at Sakusa, sleep rumpled and clearly not functioning. Hanamaki and Matsukawa snicker and head for the registers. Sakusa tugs Atsumu over to the food court for a glass of water before they make their way back downstairs and pay for their furniture. Sakusa’s tabletop selection feels like ages ago.

They load their purchases into their cars. Sakusa closes his trunk and fiddles with his keys as Atsumu finishes.

Atsumu stretches, letting out another huge yawn before looking at Sakusa. He rakes one hand through his atrocious bedhead. Sakusa’s is probably not any better, but at least he can put it into a ponytail.

“Hey, after decorating our future home, adopting Jeremy, and spoonin’ in bed, y’wanna help me set up these chairs for the kitchen?”

Sakusa blinks before pursing his lips, trying not to smile. “Can we get IKEA breakfast first?”

“It’s a date,” Atsumu says, with a smug grin.

They ignore the weird looks they get from Hanamaki and Matsukawa on their way back in.

**Author's Note:**

> title from [want you in my room](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELzgEvk31dk) by carly rae jepsen. not sponsored by ikea, but i wish.
> 
> thank you for reading!


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